The scariest thing about today, Friday the 13th, is that my last baby turns six months old. A half year ago, I held a newborn. Today, that newborn is having breakfast off a spoon and sitting up on his own.
Now that’s a Freaky Friday revelation.
As I sip my morning coffee, Paul is sleeping next to me in his blue bouncy seat. The tired and worn bouncy seat all four of my kids have logged far too many hours sitting in than I care to admit as their mother.
I read through his birth story, the time a little boy was born on a cold and windy night, and it doesn’t even feel like it’s our story. It’s a familiar tale, I know it well, but it just feels miles and years ago, instead of just this past winter.Is this a good or bad thing? I can’t decide.
Another six months later, we will be smashing cake, singing a birthday song, and if he’s anything like his siblings, maybe even watching him walk around the house.
*photo by casey.